


Reckoning

by Xero_Sky



Series: Kindred Spirits [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Dubious Consent, Just after Knifehead, M/M, Major Character Injury, Snuggling, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xero_Sky/pseuds/Xero_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Knifehead, Yancy Becket is rescued, but it's not enough. After he flatlines on the table twice, Raleigh is forced to make a decision that will change both their lives irrevocably.  </p><p>Hercules Hansen will try to save his brother, but only at a price: whether it works or not, the Beckets belong to him from now on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly gratuitous smut wrapped in plot.
> 
> I used to swear I wouldn't write vampires or werewolves, and since that's a failure, here's the werewolves.
> 
> Inspired mostly by Max Martini subduing a guy while shirtless in The Unit.

“Are you sure this is a bargain you want to make, Mr. Becket? I can still stop it if there was any kind of coercion.” Pentecost’s voice is cold and hard, all edges, but his eyes are warmer, and sadder. Raleigh believes him, believes that the Marshall would help him if he wanted it. He has no use for that, though, not now.

“It okay, sir. I went to him, not the other way around,” he rasps, trying to make his voice obey him. His throat is raw and it’s hard to force the words out. It’s from the screaming, they tell him. He screamed all the way back to shore after putting Knifehead down, because the release was jammed and he couldn’t get loose, couldn’t even get to the other side of the conn pod to see if his brother was still alive in all that wreckage or not. He doesn’t remember any sounds but the wind howling through the holes in Gypsy’s hull.

“I’ll give you some time, then,” the Marshall says, nodding slowly as he looks him over. “We’ll see how much you’ll need when your brother wakes up.”

“Thank you, sir,” Raleigh whispers. He’s equally grateful for what the man hasn’t said. There’s been no accusations, no questions about how he could possibly have had the right to do what he did, no arguments. He was Yancy’s only blood kin, his only family, and that had been enough. He couldn’t justify what he’d done in any other way, because the only alternative had been Yancy dying, and there was no possible way he could have allowed such a thing to happen while there was still a chance. Any chance. 

Pentecost goes to leave, but he stops a moment at the door. “There was a time,” he says, looking fixedly nowhere near Raleigh, “when I would have made the same choice, if I could have. Make the best of it.”

He’s gone before Raleigh can struggle out a reply. The young man pulls the covers up higher around himself. He knows the stories, and knows that the Marshall was talking about his co-pilot, who died from radiation poisoning. Maybe the way she died was the difference. Maybe nothing could stop a death that took place in slow motion that way.

Not like Yancy. Hansen had said so.

Herc Hansen had known he was coming. Didn’t ask how Raleigh knew, didn’t make him beg for it. Just told him that he would do his best and the chances were even, and that either way the Beckets would be in his debt. Was Raleigh willing to take those chances? 

He was.

The prices were simple, and unbearably steep.

The first was Yancy.

The second was himself.

Raleigh huddles under his covers and waits, telling himself that there had been no other way.

******* 

It’s not the elder Hansen that comes for him. It’s his son and co-pilot and… Raleigh doesn’t know the proper word for it. It’s Chuck Hansen, is who it is. He comes in and stands there, arms crossed, with a solemn look on his face, and says nothing until Raleigh prods him.

“Well?”

Chuck is sixteen and tall for his age, his t-shirt already smooth over hard muscles. He’s a serious kid, devoted to his father and to killing kaiju, and it makes him seem older than he really is. Right now, with Raleigh so far out of his depth, Chuck might as well be the only adult in the room.

“Dad sent for you.”

“Is Y-Yancy okay?” Raleigh manages to stutter out.

“He’s gonna be. Takes awhile,” Chuck answers with a shrug. “Now c’mon, don’t keep Dad waiting.”

He tosses Raleigh a bundle of cloth that turns out to be clothes, big loose things that he can slide on over his bandages. His injuries scream as he tries to get dressed, and he startles when warm fingers touch his; Chuck helps him get the shirt over his head and then ties his sweatpants. 

“Ya did what Dad said, yeah?”

“Yeah. No painkillers, no pills.” Some of them made the process of the change slower, the pain worse, Herc had said. Best to avoid them all. Raleigh had thought it was all a test of his resolve or some bullshit until a new chart was hung on the wall by his bed, specifying no meds, with Herc’s signature scrawled across it. He’d been serious, then.

“Good. C’mon.” Chuck is all business, but he’s also oddly gentle, helping Raleigh walk without even once jostling him or rushing him along. Their pace is glacial, but the younger man doesn’t seem to mind, which is at odds with what little Raleigh knows of him. 

But then, how much does he know, outside of the fact that Chuck’s a werewolf? 

He wouldn’t even know that much, he guess, if his own father hadn’t liked to tell stories when he was drunk. After their mom was gone, their dad had drunk a lot. He’d had a captive audience in his kids, and he’d told them every story he could remember, just to fill up the quiet with his voice. Probably 99% of it was bullshit, but that one percent was worth more than their old man could have guessed.  
What Raleigh knew for sure was that, even if the shifter blood in his dad had been too weak for anyone in the last few generations to change, there was still enough of it left for his sons to recognize a true werewolf when they saw one.

He and Yancy had known about the Hansens from the first moment they saw them: full-blooded shifter nobility from the southern clans. Herc had been friendly enough, but Chuck had been distant, as if the Beckets had been beneath his notice. And maybe they had been, until now.

Until Herc had agreed to turn Yancy and try to save his life all at the same time. The Bite could heal or it could kill, but it never, never left anyone unchanged. Knowing that, Raleigh had gone to him when the medics were all telling him that Yancy was never going to wake up, that his injuries were too severe –

And Raleigh had agreed to the price. Him and Yancy both, no matter what happened, would belong to Herc Hansen from now on.

Their tiny bit of shifter blood might make it possible to survive something that maybe one pure human in 1000 could live through, and the Hansen bloodline would grow by two, and then the war would go on.

Raleigh doesn’t care. Not as long as Yancy lives. He’d felt his brother die on the operating table twice. He can’t allow that to happen again, no matter what it takes. He doesn’t have anyone else in the world; everyone he loved is dead, except Yancy, and he’ll do anything to keep him safe.

He stumbles, and the teenage werewolf steadies him, careful of his wounds.

Of course Chuck is gentle with him. No reason to bash your kin, after all.

******* 

Yancy is hot to the touch; the heat rolls off his lax body in sickening waves. Herc tells Raleigh it’s normal, and that the turning went well. There’s a bruised and bloody mark high on Yancy’s shoulder, bigger than a human bite would be, but that’s healing almost as Raleigh watches. The bigger wounds, the ones that fucking kaiju had left him with, are already healed, leaving livid marks against his pale skin which seem to already be fading.

His brother seems so peaceful sleeping there, even though it’s in a hospital bed, that Raleigh wonders for a moment if maybe he’s hallucinating. He hasn’t eaten since dinner the night before, or slept since the kaiju alarm went off this morning. 

If not for the scars, Yancy looks perfectly normal, like any other day of their lives. He hasn’t sprouted fur or started howling, but then Raleigh hadn’t expected that. The actual act of shifting has to be taught. He knows that much.

But Yancy’s alive.

Yancy’s going to be alright.

Raleigh doesn’t even realize that he’s weeping until Herc comes up behind him, turns him into his shoulder, and lets him cry it out in his arms. He’s never felt so weak in his life, but he couldn’t turn away from that solid warmth if his life depended on it.

And maybe it does, but it’s a little late for that now.

When the tears stop, Herc slides a hand up under his shirt, stroking his back with an open palm, and the heat and sensation of rough skin moving up his spine makes Raleigh arch into him. Clever fingers avoid his bandages and Herc pulls him even closer.

“C’mon, then,” Herc says softly, and Raleigh just nods his head. There’s no point in arguing about it now, not with Yancy breathing again.

“Will he…?” Raleigh whispers.

“He took to it better than most. Give him a bit to sleep it off, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He can’t look Herc in the eye, not since he knows what’s coming next. He sort-of hears Herc talking to Chuck, but he gets distracted. He’s so numb, so tired… and Herc’s got bare feet. He doesn’t know why it strikes him, really, but he stares at them for a moment, before realizing that Herc is only wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else. Not even his tags.

But of course he’d shifted not long ago, right? For Yancy?

It unnerves Raleigh, and he takes a step back. Herc’s body is all lean muscle, perfect and cut, and maybe being a Ranger is part of that, but mostly it’s his blood. It’s what he is. 

What Yancy is now, and Chuck, and what Raleigh will be, soon.

Herc turns to look at him, sensing something, and he reaches out and puts a hand on the back of Raleigh’s neck, subduing him entirely with a simple touch. The hot weight of it roots him in place, and when Herc’s thumb starts moving back and forth through the hair at the base of his skull, Raleigh starts shivering uncontrollably. He wonders if he’s in shock.

“Chuck will look after him, yeah?” the older man says. “We’ve got business, you and I.”

He steers Raleigh out of the room, letting him take a last look at Yancy before the door closes behind them. He doesn’t let go of his neck as he guides him down the hall to a nearby room, and Raleigh flushes, knowing what the people they pass are seeing. He keeps his eyes on the floor. Herc is displaying him, showing off his property, and he has no say in it.

Herc guides him into an empty room with a bed and no windows. He doesn’t let go even to lock the door behind him.

“You still willing to pay up?” Herc asks, tilting his chin up when Raleigh doesn’t look at him.

“Yes, sir,” Raleigh says quietly. Blue eyes meet blue eyes, and after a long moment Herc smiles.

“I could shift right now, sink my teeth into ya,” he drawls. “Reckon I’ll take my time with you, though. Have a bit of fun.”

Raleigh shudders, but doesn’t deny him anything. Herc pulls him forward and scents him roughly, pressing his face into his neck, and Raleigh can’t keep the whimper behind his teeth as his shoulder is jostled. Herc presses his nose against the injury under his shirt and inhales, then scowls. Large hands hook into the neck of his shirt and he staggers as Herc rips it down the middle before pulling it off his arms. A moment later the bandages are coming off, and the floor shifts under him as the pain makes him dizzy. Then the whole room spins, and when it stops, Raleigh realizes that Herc picked him up, and they’re on the lowered bed now; he’s sitting spread across the werewolf’s lap, and his shoulder’s slowly going numb because Herc is licking at the wound, cleaning it as it heals under his tongue.

He struggles, but Herc doesn’t even budge, doesn’t appear to put any effort into holding Raleigh’s wrists firmly behind his back in one large hand. The rasp of his tongue makes Raleigh twitch, as it’s so firmly on the edge between pain and blessed relief. When he’s satisfied, Herc leans him back so he can duck his head and tend to the burns on his ribs.

It’s such a strange sensation, but it feels good, and as the pain leaves him, he feels good too. He stops struggling, and lets Herc support him, manhandling him to get access to everything that hurts. He’s tired and Herc is warm, and he smells good, something he hadn’t noticed before.

Herc releases his hands and Raleigh braces himself, grabbing hold of Herc’s shoulders to steady himself as the werewolf stands up, swings Raleigh’s legs around, and picks him up, just to lay him out on the bed again. This time he crawls on top of him and starts undoing his pants without a moment’s hesitation, while Raleigh lays back, muscles loose and almost smiling. Apprehension is curling in his stomach, but it’s impossible not to watch Herc, impossible not to comply with anything he asks. The absence of pain, the relief over Yancy is making him giddy, and he knows it, but he doesn’t care.

Herc tugs and Raleigh lifts his hips obediently, letting his pants be pulled off. Herc settles back down, straddling him, and smirks, looking his fill. He lets his fingers glide up and over golden skin and newly-formed scars, smiling as he surveys his new property.

“Pretty boy, ain’t ya?” Herc praises him quietly, and Raleigh doesn’t preen, he doesn’t, but he may stretch out a little further, and to something of his own surprise, he may tip his chin up and to one side, exposing his throat. The Alpha wolf lays the palm of his hand lightly on his throat, letting it rest there, and Raleigh trembles, but doesn’t look away. Are Herc’s eyes darker now than before? Much darker? 

“Knew you carried the old blood when I first saw the two of you,” Herc says, leaning down slowly until he can replace his hand with his mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the length of his throat. “Northern clans, faded but still clear. Perfect.”

“Are…” Raleigh starts, the word escaping with a sigh. His thoughts scatter, though, as the Alpha begins licking the hollow at the base of his throat. It’s hot and slick and slow, and Raleigh can feel it with every inch of himself.

“Am I going to bite you?” Herc murmurs against his skin. “Damned right I am. Gonna drive my teeth home into that pretty neck and own you. Time for this first, though.”

He rears back, lifting up so he can start unbuttoning his pants, then moves so he can take them off, and if Raleigh’s ever going to run, this is the moment, when Herc’s legs are all tangled up. Instead, he just watches as more pale skin and lean muscle are revealed, and he doesn’t want to go anywhere else. He’s under no illusion he’d make it, anyway.

And he’s far from convinced that he doesn’t want this. 

Herc turns and looks him over, his eyes gleaming faintly red in the low light.

“You ready?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really,” Herc says with a sharp grin, climbing on top of him before stretching out, pinning him down, and pressing miles of hot skin against his own. It overloads Raleigh’s nerves, and he hissed as if he’d been burned. 

Herc kisses him deeply, and it chases the last resistance out of him. He spreads his knees and the Alpha settles between them, pressing him farther open. He takes both their cocks in hand and jacks them slowly for a moment, then licks his fingertips. “Wonder if your brother’ll taste the same,” he says, contemplatively. 

Anything Raleigh might have said to that disappears into Herc’s mouth as he’s kissed breathless. Slick but merciless fingers breach him, and he knows he’s tough, he knows he can take it, but he can’t stop the high-pitched whine in his throat. It’s more at the invasion itself than from pain, and Herc slows a bit, concentrating on kissing him for a few moments before going any further. It’s only a brief respite, though, before Herc’s moving again, opening him up, making him ready. 

All too soon, the next command comes. “On your knees.”

Herc sits back and Raleigh moves, shakily, wondering how the hell he got here, preparing himself for an alpha wolf. Out of gratitude. Out of desire. To settle a debt he couldn’t have imagined owing yesterday. 

He takes in a deep, wavering breath and closes his eyes as he bends forward, presenting himself. The bed shakes, and then Herc’s body is pressed over his own, hot skin and hard muscle covering him. Long-fingered hands run down his sides, across his belly and down his thighs, and Raleigh can feel Herc’s muscles jumping under his skin as he fights the shift back. He shudders, knowing he can’t take the alpha in his other form, and makes himself small and quiet, a picture of submission.

Herc’s cock pulses hot and hard against the back of his thigh.

“D’ya think I’d hurt one of my own?” Herc rasps in his ear. 

“Don’t know,” Raleigh gasps out, because he doesn’t, even though the compulsion to answer is strong.

“I’ll have to teach you better, boy,” the alpha growls, and then he moves, and with a long, hard slide he’s inside, and Raleigh’s scrabbling at the mattress, kicking out and trying to get away from the intensity of it, the pain and the pleasure of it. Herc’s teeth come down on the back of his neck, not drawing blood yet but sharper than they were before, and Raleigh subsides, panting, his head cradled in his arms. He can’t seem to get enough air, and Herc is crushing him, and –

Herc licks at the back of his neck, and moves, rolling his hips back and then forward again, and Raleigh can breathe again, suddenly. This, he knows. He hasn’t done it often, but it’s familiar enough, and he knows there’s pleasure to be had from it. Herc laughs breathlessly and leans back, grabbing hold of Raleigh’s hips so he can find his rhythm. For the first time since this began, Raleigh can feel himself growing hard, and when a rough hand cups his dick, the sound he makes is confused and ambivalent and deeply aroused.

The alpha is fire and strength over him, but Herc fucks him slowly, bringing him along and building him up, making him burn. The alpha scent is strong, and even the weak blood in Raleigh responds to it, so that he arches his back and spreads his knees wider, taking as much as Herc wants to give him. Already he knows exactly where his place is.

“That’s it,” Herc croons roughly. “Good boy, taking me deep.”

The hand that was stroking Raleigh moves, pinning him down hard by the back of his neck, and somehow that’s even better, because he can’t do anything but what his alpha demands now. He’s given everything up, and it’s good. 

His alpha saved Yancy. His alpha healed him. His alpha can have everything Raleigh can give him. 

It doesn’t take too much longer before Herc growls and speeds up, chasing his pleasure, and the man beneath him braces himself, to make it easier for him. The alpha notices and drags sharp nails up the back of his thigh, making him yelp.

“Come,” Herc orders him, and Raleigh does, helpless not to, spattering the sheets and his own chest as Herc slams into him, rocking him forward. The pleasure makes him black out for a moment, but Herc’s hand comes down on his ass, and he jerks back, pushing his hips back so his alpha can finish. And Herc does, soon, coming with a sound like a laugh or a growl or both. 

Everything is quiet and still, except for the sound of their breathing. They barely have enough energy left for the anticipation in the air.

Raleigh goes easily when the alpha rolls them both over on their sides, and he makes no protest when Herc pulls out but stays close, running large hands over his skin, checking, he eventually realizes, to make sure Raleigh’s okay. He doesn’t ask, just relies on touch and smell and, after a minute or so, taste, as his tongue laps over Raleigh’s most tender places. 

Then he presses an ear to Raleigh’s chest, listening to his heart for a few moments before settling down against him, relaxing into an embrace that Raleigh’s too boneless and happy to question.

He knows it’s coming, but he’s too tired, too blissed-out to do more than flinch when the alpha suddenly pulls him close and sinks his teeth into the base of Raleigh’s neck. Everything goes red, and everything goes black, and he loses his grip on the world to the sound of his alpha growling softly above him.

******* 

Yancy snores. It’s not a terrible, walrus-in-heat kind of snore, just a gentle rumbling, and Raleigh doesn’t mind it at all. It’s a healthy sound, a normal sound, and Raleigh smiles, eyes still closed. His brother is asleep, tucked under the covers next to him, and it could be any morning in their lives, any morning where Yancy is alive and whole and with him.

Other details filter in later, as he lies there in comfort and warmth, truly relaxed for the first time in what seems forever. He’s naked, but that doesn’t seem so odd, even though Yancy is naked next to him. He’s slept cuddled up to his brother more times than he can count since they were just boys with their family falling apart. Usually with more clothes on, but he doesn’t mind so much at the moment.

The warm body spooning up behind him, with one arm slung over his stomach and the other up beneath the pillows is different, though. He doesn’t remember… He’s with Yancy, but why is there someone else?

He moves, attempting to sit up, but the arm just tightens, pulling him down again, and Yancy shifts closer, eyes open if still sleep-blurred. 

“Rals,” he says softly. 

Behind him, a voice speaks soothingly in his ear. “Settle down. It’s all good.”

It’s the command in that voice, more than the accent, that tells him who it is, and where he is, and what has happened. He sinks back down into his alpha’s embrace without even considering it first, and is rewarded with a soft kiss behind his ear.

“Yancy?” he asks, staring into his brother’s eyes. _I did this, I sold us to him to save you_ , he wants to say, but his tongue can’t shape the words.

“I know,” Yancy says clearly, making sure there’s no doubt. “It’s okay, Raleigh. You did good.”

“Yeah?” His voice is rough, as if he’s on the edge of tears he hasn’t a hope of shedding.

Yancy leans forward and kisses him gently on the cheek. “Yeah.” 

He runs his fingers through Raleigh’s hair and kisses him again, on the forehead, and Raleigh smiles at him, relaxing against Herc’s warmth. There is a war on, the same war as the day before, and the day before that, but he has Yancy again, and they are not alone anymore, and who knows what’s possible now?

Yancy’s eyes flash red as he leans across his brother to kiss their Alpha, and Raleigh doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.


End file.
